


such selfish prayers and i can't get enough

by tokyolovehotel



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Body Worship, Breeding, Breeding Kink, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Reader, If I miss anything please let me know!, Post-Canon, Post-Devil May Cry 5, Pregnancy Kink, Pregnant Reader, Pregnant Sex, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, UHHHH I think that's everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:09:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27240229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokyolovehotel/pseuds/tokyolovehotel
Summary: In the back of your fucked-stupid thoughts, you were grateful that Nero and Kyrie had invited your daughter over for an impromptu sleepover.You’d make sure to text them your thanks tomorrow.
Relationships: Vergil (Devil May Cry)/Reader, Vergil (Devil May Cry)/You
Comments: 15
Kudos: 185





	such selfish prayers and i can't get enough

**Author's Note:**

> @ the anon in sync’s ask box who was talking about being vergil’s pregnant queen, this one’s for you!! my nasty little self resonated with your asks and i figured the best way to make my return into the fanfiction scene was with shameless smut. ironically, i have absolutely no desire to have kids IRL but it was honestly super fun writing about vergil being feral and hella horny because reader is super pregnant with his kid(s). 
> 
> and if it isn’t obvious by the tags, if you’re NOT into pregnancy then this probably isn’t the fic for you!

**_“Mine, you’re mine—!”_ **

The voice in your ear is nothing short of a growl, barely comprehensible when accompanied by the rumble in his chest, distorted words registering in your brain like radio static. Time was lost to you, ever since you were whisked away to your bedroom and railed into the mattress. Your lover was ruthless, insatiable, fueled by the desire to breed you and make you his. It was, quite frankly, similar to how he behaved during his ruts, only this time he wasn’t in the middle of his rut, and _you_ were already knocked up.

Again.

It came as a surprise to you both; Vergil hadn’t behaved like this at all during the first pregnancy , nothing but doting and careful whenever he touched you, so worried that you’d fall apart in his hands. And he was similar now, ever cautious with only a few weeks until your due date. So perhaps it was the Catherine D’Lish robe you wore while lazily lounging on the couch – an anniversary gift from many years ago – with its sheer emerald fabric draped perfectly over your swollen tits and belly. Or maybe it was the way you’d looked at him with such love and adoration when he called your name from the entryway of your living room, the question he wanted to ask you fleeing from his mind at the mere sight of you. A primal need seemed to take over him then, your devil practically stalking over to where you lay. With large hands groping across the soft expanse of your torso, his touch was greedy, possessive, as if he was staking his claim. He pressed kisses into your skin, teasing with teeth in between poetic words about how beautiful you looked, how you were nothing short of a goddess, _his_ goddess. The moments following after were a blur, and before you knew it he had you on the bed with your legs spread and his tongue deep in your cunt.

In the back of your fucked-stupid thoughts, you were grateful that Nero and Kyrie had invited your daughter over for an impromptu sleepover. You’d make sure to text them your thanks tomorrow. 

You’re on your hands and knees now, Vergil’s cock pounding into you mercilessly, pussy split wide and dripping with his prior loads. He’d initially only been interested in marking you up before suddenly deciding that you needed to be bred again (and you’d both taken a moment to breathlessly laugh at how silly it sounded), streaks of cum painting your face and chest and _especially_ your stomach. You moaned behind bitten lips, barely registering the buildup of another orgasm before your pussy fluttered all over his cock, a weak splash of your juices splattering onto his hips. Your ability to squirt was a surprise during your pregnancy, too. It was utterly obscene, but neither of you cared. And instead of whispering filthy nothings in your ear about you being plugged up and filled to the very last drop by his cock, tonight he seemed more preoccupied at how much of a mess the two of you could make. Over and over, he rammed into your pretty pink cunt, practically frictionless with the amount of fluids you’d produced. You were a mess, he was a mess, the whole _house_ was a mess.

How long had it been since this started, again?

_Hours?_

“Look at you. You’re practically about to burst, my love,” he coos into your ear, the rhythm of his hips only slightly faltering as he moved to lean over you, one hand held firm on your hip while the other caressed the taught skin of your abdomen before slipping down in between your legs. You jolt at his fingers against your clit, swollen and overstimulated. A protest dies on your tongue, words failing to form. And how could you be expected to, when it felt this good?

“You look so beautiful like this, swollen and heavy with our children.” Clawed fingertips prick at your hips, pulling you off him only to slam back in, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. He pauses, stuffed deep and throbbing, basking in the feel of you stretched to the absolute limit around him, of your legs shaking from sheer pleasure alone. His name falls from your lips like a mantra, holy and divine until it’s all you know. You’re numb, pressed face-first into the mattress, drooling onto the sheets and weakly grasping at them, whimpering moans sounding with every wet, sloppy thrust into your little pussy. Your arms had given out long ago, and you only remained upright on your knees because of how well he held you. Exhaustion was beginning to creep into your bones, but still you wanted _more_.

“V-Vergil…” came your needy whimper, as if you wanted to beg him for something, but couldn’t. He hums in response, fingers working faster against your nub and in time with his thrusts, spiraling you further into madness. He wanted to see you broken, if only so he could build you back up again. A feat that only _he_ could accomplish. For a moment, he looks up and away from the enticing view of your backside, meeting his own gaze in the wide mirror that spanned across the wall above your shared dresser.

“Should we have more?” He says suddenly, groaning when your pussy clamps down on his cock in response.

“Y-Yes!” You yelp in reply, suddenly energetic. It’s dizzying, knowing that he wanted _another_ , with you—

“You’re the perfect mother,” he breathes, his hand leaving the wet, slippery folds of your cunt and traveling up your chest, fingertips lingering around the hollow of your throat. You tremble in his arms, anticipating, yearning, desperate. Your orgasm hangs precariously on the edge. His hand cups around your neck, a barely-there touch that was surprisingly grounding compared to the stark contrast of his brutal thrusts. “Seeing you with her brings me so much— so much happiness. Call me selfish, but I want to see more of that. You’ll give me another after the twins, won’t you?”

“Yes, yes, whatever you want—”

He growls again, pride swelling and surging through him at your words. Such a perfect wife, his mate, his _queen_.

His hand tightens, and suddenly you’re staring at your own reflection, eyes wide and tears staining your cheeks.

You were an absolute _wreck_.

It’s like this that he fucks you, hauled up against his chest, one hand around your neck and another possessively cupping the swell of your belly. Your tits, heavy and full of milk, bounce with every thrust, a lewd sight that only further adds to the heat between your legs. Vergil watches your reactions in the mirror, a wail torn from you as he fucked deeper and deeper, carving a space out only for him. Fingers pinch at your chin, dragging your gaze away until you’re surrounded by him and only him, greeted by a piercing silver gaze that holds every last bit of adoration he felt for you. He captures your lips in a kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth in a messy display of affection. More and more, he fucks you faster and faster until you’re sobbing into his mouth, tears spilling freely down your cheeks as your final orgasm rips through you, crashing into you like a freight train and leaving you shaking. With a groan, Vergil follows soon after, emptying into your greedy pussy for the final time that night. It spills out around where he’s plugged deep, running thick down your thighs and joining the mess already on the bed. A change of sheets was the absolute bare minimum you’d need to do after this.

For now, you were allowed a moment to collect yourself.

The silence that follows is calming, heartbeats slowing and breaths evening out into a steadier rhythm. Vergil’s cock slips from you easily, and he gently ushers you over to a cleaner side of the bed. You settle onto your side, sighing, too tired to care about the steady stream of cum that leaks from your abused pussy. You vaguely register the feeling of a warm washcloth in between your legs, across your stomach, and over your breasts, kisses followed in their wake soon after. So much love, all unspoken.

“Wait here, my moon,” comes the gentle murmur of his voice, “I’m going to run a bath.

\--

Hours pass, and whatever force that had driven your lover into a frenzied lust seems to have settled down for the time being. Takeout containers and mugs of tea remained abandoned on the coffee table, the two of you wrapped up in what had ended up being a surprisingly enjoyable mystery movie, despite the mixed reviews. Dressed in a plush robe, you leaned further into the warmth that radiated from Vergil, with nowhere else you’d rather be. He returns the gesture in a rare show of affection, one arm wrapped securely around your back while his hand traced nonsensical patterns onto your belly. Always so touch-starved, without even realizing it. You sigh contentedly, and he leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Tired?” He asks.

“A little bit.”

“We can go to bed, if you’d like.” Sleeping wasn’t necessary for a cambion like himself, but he was more than happy to stay by your side until you drifted off.

You smile. The movie forgotten, you untangle yourself from Vergil’s hold and head towards the hallway that lead to your bedroom, stopping just shy of leaving the living room entirely.

Slowly, you turn, mischief in your gaze and a playful smirk on your lips. You’re rewarded with a raised brow, the devil unsurprised at your behavior. He doesn’t budge, eyes darkening and calculating. _Your turn._

Your robe drops to the floor.

“Well, are you coming?”

**Author's Note:**

> and that’s that!! comments are always appreciated. 
> 
> hit me up on tumblr, might take a few vergil-related requests to get things going again, but next on my list is a smut compilation for the game _hades_. my future one-shots will be more gender neutral.


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